A Change Is As Good As Rest
by limerency
Summary: All Sarah had wanted was a break from the final stressful month of grad school. Was that too much to ask? Of course! Our heroine gets more than she expects on a night out dancing in the Big Apple. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

When the bouncer issued Sarah a special VIP band that her roommate did not receive, Sarah debated walking out immediately. Ashley had approached first, beaming at him and thrusting out her breasts for maximum cleavage, in the way of young women accustomed to never having to pay to enter a club. It wasn't really necessary, of course, as Ashley was already gorgeous with her platinum blonde hair, tight skirt and low cut sliver top. She would never have to pay.

The bouncer checked Ashley's ID, placed a neon yellow wristband stating "ABOVE 21" on her wrist, and allowed her forward to a security guard waving a metal detector.

"ID?" He asked, gesturing Sarah to come forward. Sarah had already been rooting for her ID when they turned the corner, but when she turned to hand it to him, she looked him in the eye and froze, dead in her tracks. Her heart pounded in time with the bass from inside the club. He looked at her with indifference, looked down at the license, then back up again, taking in her little black dress, long dark hair, and a stunned expression on her cherry red lips.

He hummed to himself in a gravelly tone and asked for her arm.

For an Orc, he was surprisingly deft and gentle with the armband.

They'd arrived a little early so the line wasn't long. She hadn't noticed before in conversation with Ashley, but among the other humans were two fae women in animated conversation about seven people behind them. Their lithe bodies and facial markings gave them away, but no one else in line seemed to notice or care. _Maybe they thought it was just makeup?_ thought Sarah, but since the Orc equally received no response, she knew that wasn't the case.

Sarah looked ahead to Ashley, ahead of her in the lobby, getting impatient. She received her yellow armband, plus an additional pink one that declared "VIP".

"VIP?"

"You know what I am, right?"

She nodded slowly.

"Well there you go," he shrugged.

"Come on," Ashley called out. "Don't hold up the line, Sarah. It's freezing out here." Sarah propelled forward to the guard who inspected her purse and asked her if she had any magical devices on her person. She shook her head. Although he looked human, she didn't yet trust her voice.

As a grad student with little time or energy to go clubbing, she had resisted the idea at first. But with mere weeks left to their final semester at Albany, her roommate Ashley convinced her to take a night off to celebrate. Club flier in hand, she pulled an anxious Sarah away from the blue-white glow of her word processor, telling Sarah to stop mulling over imagined faults in the thesis she had finally submitted. There was nothing else to be done until the oral defense, and that was still a week away. A night out would be restorative, and she had just heard of an elite club that had recently opened. Sarah knew her roommate liked these boutique clubs with silly names that belied the interior.

"If the name sounds fancy, you know they're trying too hard," Ashley would say. She often took the train down for a fun weekend away from college, but unilaterally avoided places with names like Heaven or Palladium, and opted for a place called the Grotto or for a larger scene, the Tunnel. So that's how they ended up at the Underground, a supposed bastion deep cuts, hot beats, and the bleeding edge of turntable-ism in spring of 95'.

There had been a surprisingly accurate depiction of a fairy on that club flier, Sarah recalled now, standing in the overly air-conditioned front room as people (and creatures) of all kinds continued to filter in. Kandie kids in rave wear, older adults in more sophisticated attire, and a steady flow of other-human creatures in fashions that obviously didn't originate on the NYC streets. And on the faces of normal people like Ashley: zero surprise. There must be some kind of glamour, Sarah assumed, preventing the masses from seeing these creatures as they really were.

An overzealous DJ wearing a Dracula costume warmed up the crowd in the front room. She worried he was an actual vampire and happily allowed Ashley to drag her up to the next floor. After years of sporadic contact with the Underground, Sarah had begun to take these little triggers for granted. Ghosts and goblins, peaches and fairies. After all, she'd won. And it was years ago. It would be silly to freak out or avoid very little thing that reminded her of the Labyrinth.

Yeah. Totally silly.

Sarah was a fucking idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

It took two drinks and a DJ change for Sarah to realize that no one was out to get her. Well, except maybe for the satyr with a lascivious grin, but at least he was honest about what he wanted... and respectful when she declined.

She had stood by a table with Ashley's newly arrived friends, clubbers who cared more about the music than the dancer's otherworldly origins, and discussed their post-graduation plans. Sarah was mostly silent, nursing the dregs of her second Zima while Jessica complained about her impending student loans. She'd wanted a vodka-cranberry but didn't trust a mixed drink from this place.

"So what about you, Sarah?" asked Stacey, a physical therapy grad over at Columbia, her athletic figure bedecked in black pleather and platform boots. The plan was for them to all crash back at Stacey's apartment uptown, and she looked like she was having fun.

"I'm teaching at Albany over the summer semester. I've been too busy to go job searching yet, but I think my internship last spring might get my foot in the door."

"You don't sound too worried."

"Oh that's Sarah for you." Ashley chimed in. "She unflappable."

 _Ha_ , Sarah thought to herself. _Usually that's true, but I'm feeling a little "flapped" at the moment_.

A groovy Dee-lite B-side pounded from the speakers. Ashley screamed "I love this song!" and compelled the girls out to the dance floor. Sarah scanned her dimly lit surroundings as they danced around, laughing and singing along. Bodies dancing close, just shadows now in the lights and lasers and fog. Blending together and making humans and non-humans almost unrecognizable. After Sarah had time to digest the shock that NYC was far more _diverse_ than she'd always thought, she mused that it was actually kind of nice.

 _It's just people blowing off steam on a Friday night. Seeing all these different people, different races come together and enjoy the evening. Apparently_ , she smiled to herself, as Ashley fell away to dance with a sexy young elf who caught her attention, his long, pointy ear bedecked in hoops straight to the tip. _No matter who you are, some things never change_.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are the restrooms?" Sarah asked aloud. Her feet were getting sore and she was more than a little sweaty from the crush of surrounding dancers.

"There's nicer ones up in VIP on the 3rd floor" Ashley's elfin companion called out, pointing a VIP-clad arm to a set of stairs behind yet another Orc bouncer.

She nodded and made her way to the stairs. Flashing her armband, she passed a very luxury chill room filled with gorgeous people relaxing and drinking, plush bar chairs, velvet couches and a few more private alcoves. Her feet were singing in anticipation. The music up here was softer and relaxing, and the air was much cooler. At the end of tableau was lux ladies room with a dwarf attendant, seating area, and separate washrooms. She stepped inside a private room, locked the door, and stripped of her dress. If she was going to freshen up, might as well mop up the sweat, too.

Sarah washed her hands and applied the damp paper towels to her arms and neck. She wasn't looking forward to putting that dress back on. It was a gift from her mom, who didn't live too far from here, to be honest. It was a short cut and clung close to her body. Its sheer long sleeves did little to keep her warm on the way to the club, and yet, was just as useless at keeping her cool once she was dancing inside. The exact kind of thing Linda would wear, laughing that its purpose was _visual, darling, not practical_.

Stupid, useless dress.

As she adjusted her bra and aired out her dress, she heard two women enter in a clatter of heels and shrill voices.

"Uh!" a voice grandiosely exclaimed. "How very _dreadful_ has this evening been!"

"I'm so bored up here!" Whined the second. "I went to such trouble with my hair, and I couldn't possibly dance without ruining the effect." She heard a clatter of makeup fall onto the vanity outside the room.

"Tell me about it. I was looking forward to Lord Riven's company tonight, but he was a total no-show. I doubt _anyone_ of importance will shown up to make the evening worthwhile." Scoffed the first.

"The evening isn't over yet, sister. I heard that The Goblin King is downstairs right now." At this news, Sarah nearly fell over while trying to climb into her dress. She wasn't about to remove her heels regardless of how clean the floor looked, so it was already an acrobatic maneuver before _that_ bombshell.

"Oh Bella, I'd nearly forgot! Didn't he have a fling with that siren wailing down there on the first floor? Oh! I'm sure I can get his attention from that old hag. Hand me that comb."

"Yes, Mira, but after you got his attention... what would you do with it? He's the _goblin_ king, after all." There was no doubt of the hesitation, borderline derision in Bella's voice. "I should have worn my hair down, too," Bella sighed. A spray of perfume overwhelmed the little room. Sarah coughed politely and finished sorting herself out, not that they paid her presence any mind.

"We know _exactly_ what he's good for," the first suggested in a husky voice that made the sister giggle. "We'll have a little fun, anyhow. Oh, how Isolde will be so mad at us! We must tell her when we return. And when we're done, well... surely he knows we couldn't possibly consider a serious attachment?"

"Oh, course not, Mira." Another clatter of makeup and a clutch snapped closed. "But yes, it will definitely spice up the evening... and our conversation afterwards." Mira laughed and the women's voices receded from the ladies' room.

Sarah emerged and took a deep look at herself in the vanity mirror.

 _Of course._ _Of course_ _he's here._ She wondered if he knew she was there, after all this time without contact. _And being hunted by harpies, apparently._

She cleaned up little traces of smeared liner under her eyes. If she wanted, she could slink out now and head to her mom's. She could be in warm, comfy pajamas in half an hour and avoid meeting him altogether. If that was what she wanted. She took out her mascara and touched up her lashes.

The attendant had little cups for mouthwash discretely in the corner. She swished and tried to think. She hadn't see him since that night. What was it now... ten years? Sarah could barely believe that it had been that long. It might be nice to say hi, maybe catch up. She dug in her purse for a few dollars for the attendant and found her cherry-red lipstick too.

If he did show up, she thought to herself as she reapplied the lipstick, even if he didn't care, she could at least prove that she wasn't the whiny little girl she was in the labyrinth, or like those miserable women in the bathroom a moment ago... snooty women pouting in their snooty VIP lounge. They sounded awful, and no one should have to put up with them. Humph! She could do this.

She was ready to face the rest of her evening calm and collected. She checked herself out in the mirror one last time, smoothing her hands over her dress with newfound gratitude.

That beautiful, perfect dress.


	4. Chapter 4

It was 1:15 when the applause and bows of the various fae and elves around the room alerted her to his arrival. From her spot on the far side of the bar, she spied him for the first time in a decade. Impossibly cool in a modern-cut white suit and his hair pulled back, the only giveaway that she was in the same room as the Goblin King were his wild eye markings and upturned eyebrows. But nevertheless, it was _him_. A dewy, green haired woman glided in on his arm and warmly thanked the room for coming out at her behest. She must be the siren, Sarah thought, somewhat regretful for opting to camp out at the bar and nervously eat strawberries rather than watch the performance below. She was certainly no "old hag" as the sisters had painted her out to be. And now, speak of the devil. Jareth turned away from Sarah's view to acknowledge two unfortunately familiar voices: the very sisters who inadvertently tipped Sarah off. Figures, they couldn't contain themselves a full minute before pouncing.

They were pretty enough, with fair looks and markings reminiscent of Jareth's. She was surprised to note that they were identical twins in identical pink mini dresses, but it was obvious which was which by the complicated up-do Bella wore versus Mira's blonde hair was worn frizzy and wild.

Sarah pretended not to eavesdrop while laughing into her glass. It was ridiculous how they fawned over him and practically ignored his companion. Finally the singer tired of the intrusion and, with a patently fake look of apology, set off to mingle elsewhere. Sarah realized that the neither the siren nor the Goblin King enjoyed the presence of these ladies. Knowing they were already unwelcome, it kind of sucked the fun out of planning to ruin their hopes. But when she thought about it, it wasn't really about them, anyhow.

Calling the bartender over, she asked if he could recommend a drink for her to send over to the Goblin King. She eyed the assortment of fruit that decorated the bar. "Something with peach, but not too sweet? Top shelf, please."

"How bout an Old Fashioned with peach schnapps. Or maybe just some fresh fruit?"

"Yes, and another glass of the Brut." She was really racking up a tab now.

From behind her, she could hear the twins pressing their luck.

"I'm just dying for a dance. What do you say, your majesty?" Bella asked tentatively.

"There are plenty of men here who would love to dance with you, I'm sure." The Goblin King drawled.

"Men like you, perhaps?"

"I fear I'm not in a dancing mood right now."

"Oh," Mira cut in with false empathy. "It seems his majesty won't be tempted to dance, sister. But I'm sure we could find some _other_ way cheer him up."

God, there it was. Sarah turned in her chair, amazed at Mira's forwardness. Mira sat near him, but never touched him. Sarah doubted he would have accepted that before giving the twins permission. But before the Goblin King could reply one way or the other, a waitress cut in and offered him a drink on a little silver tray.

A fat slice of peach rested prominently within the little glass.


	5. Chapter 5

Jareth was tired. Maintaining his kingdom was exhausting, controlling his subjects was exhausting, and traveling above-ground without being wished for was exhausting. And yet, in this rare moment away from the chaos of goblins and chickens underfoot, when all he wanted was the company of literate, thoughtful adults, the Deneuve twins had him cornered. And worse, they chased away Selphine, who was at least pleasant company even though their tryst had ended eons before. It's not that the twins were unattractive. The issue was the never-ending waterfall of gossip and sour commentary pouring from their mouths. Even as Mira suggested an evening of pleasures, he knew he would pay for it far longer when it became tomorrow's news throughout the seven kingdoms.

And then, a shadow at his shoulder saved him.

A waitress in a tuxedo shirt and black skirt was at his side, a glass of whiskey proffered to him, "compliments of the Lady, sire."

"What Lady?" he countered, a scowl working its way across his features.

She silently pointed in towards the bar, and Jareth turned in his seat to see the woman in question was none other than his most bittersweet adversary. Sarah Williams locked eyes with him. He considered her a moment. Maybe a mere twenty feet separated them, and he was sure she had been watching this farce with the twins unfold.

A far cry from the dowdy jeans and moccasins of her teenage years, she was now a vision of long legs and curves in that tempting black dress. Dark brown hair framed eyes that carried a humor and maturity he had not before seen. She raised a sleek arm covered to the wrist in sheer lace and toasted her champagne glass in his direction. And as the twins looked on, the Goblin King accepted the glass and toasted in return, eyeing the drunken peach with a raised eyebrow.

And Sarah's cherry red lips parted into a giddy smile, unable to maintain her poise in face of such absurdity.

"Who in the underground is that?!" Mira disdained of the woman who had taken the King's attention with a flash of a smile.

"You'll have to excuse me, ladies." Jareth murmured before composing himself more fully. "It seems I have overlooked an acquaintance in the room, and I must correct this. Please continue to have a lovely evening." Jareth said, standing and nodding his head in their direction.

"Can you believe it, Mira?" Belled whined in indignation. "Just like that, we are dismissed."

"Indeed! Who does she think she is?" Mira shook her head, then spied another masculine figure entering the room. "Never mind that, my sister, for look to the door: Lord Riven has shown his hide after all!"


	6. Chapter 6

Jareth sauntered to the bar, eyes locked on Sarah.

"Sarah Williams. What an unexpected pleasure."

"Goblin King." She returned. "...Or should I call you Jareth?"

"Jareth, please. I believe you are neither subject, nor adversary?" He replied, gratified at her recollection and the warmth in her tone. "May I join you?"

She nodded, suddenly unsteady under his scrutiny, so he examined his drink. "Now, before I drink this, should I worry about any particular effects it may have on me?"

Sarah's smile returned and she shrugged. "Just the effects of a little alcohol. You can ask the bartender if you don't trust me. I haven't touched it."

He nodded and sipped approvingly at the drink. Not that he was one to let it show, it had been alarming to discover that Sarah had been watching him, perhaps even waiting there for him without his knowledge. But she seemed genuinely eager to speak with him. His interest was immediately piqued. "Good. I may want to recall this at a later date, when I'm wondering to myself why the Heroine of the Labyrinth was here this evening...?"

"I came with some friends from grad school. They love checking out new nightclubs and dragged me along," Sarah leaned in conspiratorially, "...although I'm afraid they are unaware of the supernatural element in this establishment." She noted the sliver of exposed chest where his tied was loosened and the collar unbuttoned. The scent and closeness of his body suddenly triggered a memory she hadn't recalled in years:

Sarah standing her ground in the tunnels and Jareth, all confidence and authority, stalking ever nearer: _And you, Sarah_ – _how are you enjoying my Labyrinth?_ It was the foundation of more than one teenage daydream, and yet again here he was, as real as ever. Drinking with her. It was impossible to fathom.

"Ah. So the pleasure of your company is strictly a coincidence? Your friends must be wondering where you are."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "And yes, by the way, I was as surprised to discover you were on your way as you looked a moment ago..." He quirked an eyebrow at that, so she continued, "those gossips you were sitting with are quite generous with other people's business."

"Ah, well. They sealed their own fate with gossip, and I have never been more grateful."

Sarah breathed a laugh at this. Resting back into her chair, it didn't escape his notice when she crossed her legs toward him, the skin of her thighs exposed just that much more. "Well, I figured after hearing that bit of news, I couldn't help but be curious."

"Curious?" He repeated, with some disdain at her mixed signals.

"As you say, we're no longer adversaries, and – at least for me – it's a been a decade since I last saw you," she volunteered, having completely lost her nerve to show interest.

"Ah yes," he recalled with a touch of grandiosity. "That final meeting in the ruins of my castle, when you accomplished what no other runner could: Sarah the Conqueror took back a wished-away child, dividing yourself from my world and my power. I'm sure you recall it fondly."

Sarah bristled. "Well that wasn't at _all_ bitter, Jareth. What exactly was I supposed to do?" She searched his eyes before looking away to fiddle with her glass. There wasn't any champagne left in the flute, but then again, Sarah doubted there wasn't enough champagne in the entire club for this turn in the conversation. For a brief moment she'd thought that maybe they could just pretend to be old friends catching up, immune to the fractured fairy tale that lie between them.

She sighed. Sarah hadn't been certain that she was the first to win the labyrinth, but she had her suspicions. Hoggle wouldn't speak about it – or Jareth – when she first contacted him through the mirror. And Jareth never called. Not that she'd called him, either, though. And over the years, as the burdens of unending classes and the constraints of living in close quarters with other people took over, she'd lost touch with the friends she could only ever see reflected in a mirror. Her life these days revolved around the undergrads she counseled, her research assistance with her professors, and her thesis. It was only now that college was coming to a close that she would be free to strike out on her own path and be given the opportunity to reconnect. For Jareth to be here tonight... it almost seemed like fate. Maybe curious was too mild a word for her mixed-up feelings, but she didn't know how else to define her interest in him yet.

After a moment of watching her feign interest in her empty glass, Jareth knew he had overstepped. This was their first meeting since that fated night, and even if he still painfully felt the effects of her victory, he was on precarious ground. Sarah's accusation of his bitterness rang true.

Sarah – a woman of a new era, making her own decisions and owning them. He deadpanned: "That was coarse of me. You did exactly as you should have. I do not want to spoil your evening."

She relaxed again, not expecting him to admit such a thing. "Well, thank you for that. I not looking to rehash the embarrassing lessons of my youth." Then after a beat, she added quietly, "How have you been?"

"My kingdom has recovered. The castle is standing but-"

"I wasn't asking after your _kingdom_." She interrupted, chin out defiantly. It recalled a moment long passed to Jareth, a cherished and infuriating moment when a far younger Sarah jutted out that same chin, the words _pi_ _ece of cake_ echoing through his head. But he was brought back to the present when she touched a hand to his arm and she continued more softly, "Not that I'm not curious. But I was asking after _you_ , Jareth." Sarah's green eyes sparkled.

Jareth was momentarily lost as he realized it had been a very long time since someone asked after him in earnest. Maybe Selphine, and even that had been decades. He'd came out tonight in the hopes of sparking something between himself and the mermaid again, but soon realized that she was too wrapped up in her above-ground celebrity these days. He'd contented himself that any evening outside the castle is a good one, and so his expectations had been quite low when that waitress arrived with an old joke resting in a glass of whiskey.

"I'm doing well, thank you. Very well." Maybe just for the past quarter hour, but still, it was currently no lie. "And you, Sarah? It seems that the years have been very to kind you." He gestured at her with an open hand.

At this Sarah looked down modestly, a small smile playing her lips. "My life is rarely as glamorous as it might seem this evening. Until I graduate next month, my life has been a single-minded commitment to my studies. And even after that, I'm planning stay on to teach while one of my professors is working on a project out of town this summer."

"I see. No acting career, then? I recall you having a flair for the dramatic."

Sarah laughed but didn't answer.

"Come now," Jareth stood and offered his hand. "The club will be closing soon. Your friends must wonder where you are."

Unnoticed by the pair at the bar, two sets of disdainful eyes had been watching their animated conversation. Bella gasped as the Goblin King then offered his hand, and the mysterious lady took it. "Hmm!" Mira scoffed as the couple left the room. "Either that girl is an amazing actress, or she actually _thinks_ she likes him. Poor thing, just wait til she finds out!"

"Indeed, sister, I can't imagine she knows that his kingdom is overrun with those filthy goblins."

"And after touching a king so casually? Ha! She'll be running in the opposite direction in no time. I almost pity her. Riven, darling, don't you agree?"

Lord Riven, sitting in the alcove with an arm around either twin, couldn't care less. If one sister was talking, that simply meant he was free to kiss the other.


	7. Chapter 7

Jareth and Sarah made their way down to the second floor. The last DJ of the night was winding things down, savoring the groove and reading the dwindling energy of the crowd. He transitioned to a slow, sexy beat that compelled couples to sway back out to the floor.

Jareth led her straight out into the crowd and held her hand out at arms length. "May I have this dance?"

"I thought you were in no mood for dancing tonight?" she mocked lightly.

Sarah put up no resistance – and only a moment's hesitation – as he twirled her in close. Jareth wrapped an arm around her waist and held her lightly against his chest. "Depends on the partner," he spoke in her ear, breathing in a mixture of strawberries and shampoo. And then they were moving with the music, drawing closer and more confident by degrees.

Sarah was entranced. This was nothing like dream of the ballroom, which suddenly came to mind: overwrought dresses and arm's length dances, as the fae gentry played at being fantasy creatures. Here it was completely inverted: here with those very real creatures there was no hint of mockery. Artlessly moving together. Longing looks and slow, grinding movements.

And so Jareth held Sarah, her back pressed against his chest, hips to hips, moving together against the beat, his breath on her neck. She'd danced like this with other men, on other evenings. But with Jareth? It was intoxicating. Impulsively, Sarah reached up behind her and raked her hands through Jareth's hair. His wild blonde mane spilled over them as she shook it free of its tie. He clasped her raised hand in his and spun her around to face him, a dark look on his face. That same look in the ballroom. That same need for her to make a choice.

She pulled her hand free, but leaned in close so he could hear her over the music. "I'm not running away this time, Jareth – not that you could stop me – but I want to be here." At this, Jareth closed his eyes and drew her body against his. Relishing the moment. Their bodies swaying together, barely noticing their surroundings.

"You know," Sarah continued after a moment. "I wasn't certain that dance had really happened until I was back in your arms."

Sarah realized belatedly that the champagne was going to her head… and had maybe taken her libido with it. And now as they stood motionless on the floor, her knees were getting a little weak. But before he could kiss her – or she could freak out in a repeat performance of her fevered peach dream – the music faded. Why did time move at the wrong pace when he was around?

The crowd sent up a few noisy cheer for the DJ and began shuffling towards the exit, and finally Ashley spotted Sarah on the floor, the elf she had danced with earlier and the student from Columbia in tow.

"Sarah! Have you been up here the whole time? You missed an amazing performance downstairs. Ooh, and who's this?"

Jareth moved slightly to her side and placed a hand on her back in a way Sarah wasn't sure if she hated or loved.

"Hey, sorry Ash. I ran into an old friend upstairs," Sarah said, gesturing to Jareth. He preened inwardly at being called a friend. "Jareth, this is my roommate Ashley, Ashley, this is Jareth." Not knowing Jareth's, she avoided last names altogether.

"Hi there," Ashley said, far too cheery for the lateness of the hour. "Jareth, this is Stacey and Fynn. Excuse us a second."

The elf, Fynn, paled at this rushed "introduction" to the King of the Goblins, barely suppressing a bow in front of these glamoured humans. While Ashley pulled Sarah aside a moment, he started up conversation to cover his nerves and continue to guise. The Goblin King wasn't one to pick up humans above-ground, but Fynn kept his thoughts to himself. They did say they were old friends, after all. And who was he to judge, considering his own hopes for the evening?

"He's gorgeous. How do you know him?" Ashley began.

"I met him back home. It's been years." Sarah explained.

"Uh huh. He's so in to you, girl. Is he trustworthy?"

"I think so," Sarah replied, surprised that she actually believed it.

"You need condoms?" Ashley whispered.

"Shut up, Ashley. He can probably hear you."

"Well, look," Ashley continued at a higher volume, "I don't want to bail but we've been looking for you like half an hour. I was thinking of maybe hitting an after party with Fynn. Did you want to crash at Stacey's? Jessica's going, too." Ashley looked back a moment. "Or might Jareth be taking you home...?" The slow rise in pitch at the end twisting her statement into a question.

 _Home? Give me a break, Ash, we live two and half hours away._ Sarah thought at her roommate with a pointed look. She knew it wasn't an _after party_ that Ashley was looking to hit, but that didn't mean she needed to set up her roommate, too. Ashley gave an eyebrow back in defiance. The was exactly what Ashley thought, and she was convinced she knew what Sarah needed better than even Sarah.

But all they could trade was expressions, as Jareth's attention to Fynn broke at the sound of his name. "Fynn. See that Miss Ashley returns safely."

A wide-eyed Fynn nodded soberly, "Yes, Sire – ah, sir."

Jareth approached the two women slowly, his cool demeanor firmly back in place. "I could see you home… if that is your wish."

Sensing victory, Ashley said a quick goodbye and called the rest of the group to leave.


	8. Chapter 8

As they made their way outside, Sarah realized they didn't have an end goal in mind, and although she was loath to bring it up yet, they couldn't just walk all night. Many of the clubs and bars had just closed for the evening, and people around them were hailing cabs and making a beeline for the nearest subway entrance. Her heels could last maybe another half an hour before she'd need to remove them, which means she needed to be inside somewhere. Maybe she could crash at her mom's but she didn't have a key and wasn't certain she was in town. And maybe Jareth could in fact bring her home. He had not used any magic this evening – at least of which she had been aware. She recalled his words a moment ago, _i_ _f that is your wish._

"Speaking of, are you still in the business of granting wishes, Goblin King?" Sarah wasn't trying to toy with him, but his aloofness made it irresistible for some reason.

"Forever." He replied automatically, before continuing more casually, "But as you say, that's just business."

"You know, girls who want to ensure they make it home at the end of night learn to not go around making careless wishes, Jareth. Honestly? I don't make wishes at all." Sarah held her arms against the chill.

Jareth stopped her and removed his jacket, placing it over her shoulders. It carried his warmth and scent, and Sarah felt surprisingly comforted.

"Ah, but that's the thing. You are outside of my power. Granting your wishes would be something else entirely... not a duty of my station."

"So if I wished for you to take me home, whose home would we end up at? Mine or yours?" She didn't wait for an answer. "What about you, Jareth? What is _your_ wish?" Sarah skirted his meaning, again showing that she was unafraid – and unwilling – to respond as he wanted. It angered him before in the Labyrinth, but now, her rise to his challenge was thrilling. _What is your game, Sarah?_ he thought. _Are you circling in to test my interest, or merely exploiting the opportunity to trifle with me?_ Power over her or no, he had power over himself – and no desire to waste this precious opportunity.

"Your company this evening has been a most unexpected pleasure, Sarah." He placed a hand gently on her cheek, his thumb barely brushing her lips. "A pleasure I hope to enjoy again. "If you wish me to take to your home, I will take you to _your_ home. If you wish me to take you to mine... I may do so with more zeal, but the spirit of your wish would be honored regardless – and yes, you have my word that you would be free to return above ground at your discretion."

Sarah gave a pointed look, but Jareth interrupted her with a motion before she could comment. "I understand your distrust. I am aware that the pledge I made to you in my kingdom remains between us, unspoken, coloring your perception of me. My impatience and fear of losing to you... I should have never turned my feelings for you into an ultimatum. However, that night has long past, and with it any urgency, any confrontation where one of us must win – and the other lose. I make no demands of you."

"And your wish?"

Jareth sighed. "My only wish is that if you leave now, that it not be our final parting – that you allow me the opportunity to see you again."

She flushed red, her intuition responding before her mind could catch up. She placed her hands on his face, gently bringing her lips to his. He tasted of whiskey, magic, and wild things. This wasn't the desperate vow of a king afraid of losing, but an earnest declaration unlike any Sarah had ever heard. Part of her worried it was just a show, but another part figured that a leap of this magnitude required a little faith. This wasn't at all the night she'd expected, but it felt like coming up for air after too long underwater.

She'd had her share of flings and boyfriends – some of which were fairly serious – but no man in Sarah's past had ever spoke so cautiously hopeful, so passionately, without trying to remove her agency. So many guys had tried – and failed – to persuade her to stay in some selfish manner or another. Even Jareth, before. He seemed to have drastically reconsidered his actions during her run. Slowly, the kiss deepened as Jareth drew her in close, crushing the suit jacket against her, his hands buried in her hair.

It was a response Jareth hadn't fully expected, but welcomed with joy. He didn't want to the moment to end, but she placed her hands on his chest, gently pushing away to speak.

"No strings attached?" She whispered. "And no regrets if it doesn't work out?"

"You have my solemn vow, Sarah." _I am at your_ _mercy_.

She lay her head on his chest and thought a moment. "I don't even know your last name."

Wrapping his arms around her, Jareth breathed it into her hair.

Sarah nodded her understanding. Surrounded by his warmth, his heart pounding in her ear.

She took a breath.

"I wish..."

The streets had grown quiet while they embraced, and there was no audience to witness the King and his Lady disappear into the night.

Fin.

-xx-xx-xx-

Author's Note:

That's all, folks! I might post an epilogue later, but we'll have to see.

I haven't written any fanfic in maybe 15 years, since I was a Listian on the email groups (under a different name), so it's been quite a while. Took me a second to get the hang of the Doc Manager. I would appreciate any comments or reviews!


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